


Wilhuff's Secret

by White_Rainbow



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: ...its not an accident the second time, ...twice, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, I have No Excuse, Krennic falls into a trap, M/M, Tentacles, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: Krennic finds himself in the clutches of a monster Tarkin has trained to guard his most precious secrets. Tarkin is content to know Krennic has learned his lesson after the guardian is done with him.Apparently Krennic is a slow learner.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgentGale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/gifts).



> After [Call of Kylthulhu](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8225491) , my darling argent-gale requested a Krennic/Tarkin tentacle tale. 
> 
> This is the result.
> 
> I have no regrets.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! [White-Rainbowff](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)  
> 

The alarm roused Tarkin from his bed with a start, though if anyone had been accompanying the moff, it would appear that he was not perturbed in the slightest. His heart pounded with the rush of urgency and yet he maintained a calm visage and steady hand as he swiftly slipped on his trousers and gray standard issue tank shirt. His dog tags clanked noisily as he tucked them beneath the shirt and headed out to the hall of his own personal wing on the Death Star.

A harsh red light filled the hallway, originating just three doors down from his quarters. Tarkin furrowed his brow. Who could possibly break into  _ that _ room? More importantly,  _ why  _ would they do such a thing? 

There was a shout inside followed by a vicious growl, one from a man and another from the creature Tarkin had put there specifically to guard against men snooping around his treasures.

Tarkin smoothed out the grey hair on his high forehead and drew himself up. With a soft hiss the door opened and he strode in, hands tucked behind his back, austereness armoring his face.

His breath hitched, but only for a moment.

Director Krennic was kneeling in the center of the room, his uniform torn and shredded. Tentacles bound every part of him, his wrists pinned behind him, his knees and ankles bound and parted. He would have fallen on his face had the appendages around his waist and chest had not held him in place. 

“Director,” Tarkin greeted, though he could not quite conceal the breathy tone at such a surprisingly beautiful sight.

Krennic looked up and began to struggle. “Tarkin,” he spat, but for only a moment before the tentacles seemed to awaken around him. They shifted and slithered, and he in turn writhed and...moaned…

Tarkin held his breath. 

He noticed now that Krennic’s pants were torn. A thicker slick appendage was moving slowly behind the director. The man’s eyebrows knitted and he whimpered.

"Did the pup wander in where he does not belong?” Tarkin asked, walking past the free tentacles fearlessly; the tendrils bowed and shied away giving their master passage. 

Krennic panted, his hips twisted and jerked, but not away from the feelers it seemed.

“I was only-” Krennic’s words were cut off.

“Shhh, no. I know why you came here. The secrets in this room contain the final pieces to my puzzle does it not? I have told you everything you need to know, Director. Whatever secrets I have left are my own.”

Krennic growled. “Agreed. Now let me…” he cried out as another tentacle slithered its way through a torn hole in his trousers, wriggling towards the engorged, and -Tarkin noted - girthy hardness beneath. “...go.”

“And interrupt your play session with my pet? Tsk. I wouldn't dream of it. He will let you go in due time. In the meantime,” Tarkin grabbed Krennic’s chin and forced the man to look up at him, “perhaps this will remind you that pups should not go sniffing around a wolf’s den uninvited.”

Tarkin stood up and turned to leave.

“W-wait,” Krennic called out through clenched teeth. “Y-you…” his voice dissolved into a moan.

Tarkin paused, “What was that, my boy?”

“You...aren’t going to stay?”

At this, the grand moff laughed. The Director was not going to plead to be let go? What an odd request to ask him to stay and what...watch as his pet ravaged the man? Tarkin waved a dismissive hand. “Perhaps another time,” he said and left the room, another languid moan being cut off as the door shut behind him.

\-----

No more than a week went by before a familiar alarm sounded, once again rousing Tarkin from his bed. 

_ It could not be... _

Tarkin found himself hastening his step as he walked down the hallway once again. The panel next to the third door down was blinking furiously as it had days ago. He punched the code in and the alarms ceased.

He...paused a moment. He found his hands shook, for the briefest of moments, before he stayed them. His heart was twisting in a fashion he did not enjoy. There was an eagerness that tingled through his body. 

_ Get ahold of yourself, Wilhuff,  _ he cajoled himself, balling his fists and dropping them to his sides.  _ If he is on the other side of this door, do not let him see...whatever this is. _

He felt a stirring in his groin. It had been there since he had seen Krennic a week ago. He ignored it calling to him now.

_ Do not let him see… _

He punched the door panel and it sprung open all too quickly.

The vision before him…

Tarkin held his breath while maintaining a less-than-amused facade.

\-----

_ This was a mistake, _ Krennic realized. The haze of need that had plagued him for the last week had clouded his judgement. This...thing...whatever it was had positively ravaged him not a week ago, twisting and stroking and prodding until he lost all of his senses, but the idea of Tarkin coming in and watching him? This overrode the blind pleasure he indulged from the creature. He wanted both, he wanted it all, his body ached to have all its needs met, his mind needed the grand moff to watch him and enjoy himself.

But now Tarkin was in front of him, face unamused, eyebrows furrowed, hands clasped leisurely behind his back and Krennic realized what a sight he must be...

He had stripped himself of his clothes and folded them neatly near the door. He had backed into the tentacles and let them surround him, wrapping around his wrists and lifting them over his head so that his long torso was stretched and flexed. The ripples of shallow muscles along his body deepened as he struggled, as the tentacles explored and tasted every part of him as though searching for points that would rouse the most stimulation from him. They wrapped around his ankles and thighs, parting his legs and lifting him so that he was kneeling in the air, weightless and helpless. 

He was not sure what he expected from Tarkin, but the expression he received overwhelmed him with humiliation. He had misjudged the moff’s interest in him. And now he was trapped. He struggled now. The tentacles, seeming to sense his distress only worked more diligently to make him comfortable. One slid between his rounded cheeks, towards his entrance and stroked along it, tickling and kissing it with its many suckers. Two others glided over his chest, gliding beneath his solid pectorals, caressing the cleft between them and flicking the tips of the appendages against his nipples. The stimulation drew out a moan from Krennic, despite trying to choke it back. 

Tarkin merely chuckled. 

"Director, why do I get the feeling you are less interested in the guarded treasure than you are the creature guarding it?"

Krennic gritted his teeth as the tentacles were finding their way to his hips. They blindly moved along the tender skin of his lower abdomen. It would not be long before they found their way to his cock, already reddened and throbbing, a dew drop of precum budding at its tips. 

"Just admit it, Director,” Tarkin said, his imperial accent rolling the r’s of Krennic’s title with a sultry purr. “You have been wanting this. You have been waiting for an opportunity to be in my clutches and now here you are, caught in the spider’s web as it were..." 

Tarkin strode forward and Krennic wrestled against his bindings, turning his face away from the grand moff, cheeks burning with shame. 

Tarkin grabbed Krennic’s chin and forced him to look at the moff. “Admit it, pup.”   
Krennic managed a defiant glare through the buzz of pleasure as the tentacles began to surround the base of his cock. "Do not...call me... _ pup _ , I-" His breath caught as Tarkin’s other hand grabbed boldly onto his cock. 

“Tsk, tsk. You are in no position to make demands, pup. You do best to watch your tone.”

The tentacles pulled away from Tarkin’s touch and moved to explore other areas away from their master’s hand. 

Krennic thrusted his hips forward, but they barely moved as the tendrils tightened their slick grip around him. Tarkin’s hand did not move, it only squeezed almost painfully. 

“You were saying, pup?” Tarkin asked, his thumb gliding once over his cockhead, spreading his precum over his frenulum. 

The touch sent electrical thrills through Krennic’s loins and he let out a strangled moan. “D...do not...call me, pup…” he stubbornly gasped. His face burned, his cock throbbed, a single tentacle was now caressing the rim of his entrance tickling and sending him into a frenzy of need. But this last sliver of defiance, this shred of dignity...he tried to hold onto it. 

But then Tarkin pulled away. With a click of his tongue, the tentacles began to loosen their grip on Krennic.   
"Perhaps I was mistaken then…”   
"No!" Orson blurted. He writhed and pushed futilely against the tentacles. Sensing a potential threat, the tentacles began to tighten their grip. He gasped as the tendrils across his chest constricted his breathing, a single appendage wrapped around his neck and pulled back, arching his back painfully. 

Tarkin made a few clicks with his tongue and the tentacles, though not loosening their grip, moved the director until he was eye to eye with the grand moff. 

Tarkin moved his lips close to the Director’s ear.The scent of lavender drifted from the man’s neck and the heat of Tarkin’s flesh so close to Krennic set his nerves on fire.    
"Then say it. Tell me you need me. Say 'I am a good pup and I want you to ruin me, sir.'"

Krennic heard the pitiful mewl escape his lips before he could bite it back. The back of Tarkin’s hand brushed against Krennic’s cock, letting the thick shaft rest there. “Say it…” he pressed.

“I...am a good pup, and... _ ah… _ ” Tarkin slid his hand along Krennic’s shaft. 

“Good boy...keep going…”

“...and I want you to ruin...me.”

Tarkin wrapped his hand around Krennic’s shaft. “Again.”

“I am a good pup…” Krennic’s mouth was watering now, his body twitching and struggling to thrust into Tarkin’s hand. “...and I want you to ruin me.”

Tarkin was starting to stroke him now. “Good pup...such a good pup…”

“I am a good pup and I want you to  _ ruin me, _ ” Krennic said again, barely noticing that he had not been prompted to say this, but he wanted it...he wanted to be a good pup, he wanted to be Tarkin’s good pup..

“Then open your mouth and show me what a good pup you are.”

Krennic obeyed without a second thought, and immediately a thicker tentacle had found its way into his mouth. He cry was muffled as the thick appendage filled him, nestling its small suckers against his tongue. It tasted like saltwater with a peculiar sweetness. The lubrication coated his mouth and he found himself suckling on the appendage before realizing what he was doing. He moaned and sucked and moved his head back and forth, feeling the tentacle around his neck loosen to allow him to suck more. 

“That’s it...so good...” Tarkin cooed, running a hand through Krennic’s soaked hair. “I believe you’re ready for me...” He made a series of short clicks and Krennic was moving and shifting. Dozens of tentacles worked together to lay him on his back on a knotted writhing nest of appendages, holding his back up and coaxing his legs wide apart. All the while he kept his lips wrapped tightly around the tendril, making soft suckling noises and muffled groans. His heart hammered in his chest as he felt exposed and vulnerable. Tarkin stepped between his legs, running a pair of warm hands up his thighs, moving over the tentacles, making his palms slick and spreading the lubrication up towards his entrance. Krennic stretched to open wider and the tendrils complied with his request, drawing his knees up and out, exposing him further. 

“Filthy pup. So eager, too easy…”

Krennic felt the humiliation of being so very easy for the grand moff well in his belly and it surged through his cock. He squirmed in his bonds, his arms stretched over him and his knees parted wide. He could do nothing to save his dignity now, and as he looked at the grand moff, who was undoing the latch of his trousers now, he realized he no longer needed dignity. All he needed was the long, lean shaft that Tarkin now held in his hand. 

The moff let out a quiet exhale as he stroked himself, pressing the now leaking cockhead against Krennic’s entrance. He reached along the slick back of a tentacle holding Krennic’s thigh and rubbed the glistening lubrication over his shaft, another audible breath escaping his lips. “I want you to remember this, pup. I want you to feel what it is to be taken completely by someone with so much power over you.” He pressed against Krennic’s entrance. “And if you are a good pup, I will give you what you need too.”

Krennic let out a muffled keen, his glazed eyes looking pleadingly into those cold, icy orbs of the grand moff. 

Tarkin thrusted into him with a single, forceful push. Krennic screamed into the tentacle, the sudden feeling of being so utterly filled erupted through his entire body. Every muscle stiffened, including the walls tightening around Tarkin’s shaft. Tarkin let out a heavy breath. “Shhh….So tight,” he breathed, his hands pressing against Krennic’s belly, and around the base of his cock as he slowly worked himself in and out of the director. “That’s right...open yourself to me…” Krennic’s body began to relax now, opening himself up, hearing the quiet squelch as Tarkin’s wet cock thrusted inside him. The tentacle writhed and pulsed in his mouth as Krennic tried to moan; Tarkin’s cockhead grinded mercilessly into his prostate, that gem of nerve endings exploding with pleasure at each thrust. Tears of exertion streaked his eyes and his fists balled up, fighting and pushing and needing more. 

“Ah, let me hear those delicious cries, pup,” Tarkin panted and snapped his fingers. The tentacle slid from his throat, a long string of drool trailing behind. Krennic’s wet mouth let out a series of shameless, deep moans. 

“Sir, please,” Krennic moaned. “I need it.”

Tarkin tsked, but despite his mocking smile, a sheen of sweat coated his brow, his eyes glazed with hunger and he bit his lip unconsciously with each thrust. 

“You will have to do...better than that…” Tarkin panted, a hand resting at the base of Krennic’s cock. 

“Ah, please, fuck…” Krennic gritted his teeth, his head lolling back and his hips trying desperately to thrust forward into Tarkin’s hand. “I need you, sir. I want to fuck your hand. Please, I want to be a good pup for you. A dirty…” he moaned as Tarkin gripped his shaft. “...filthy…” Tarkin stroked him once. “Pup…”

A low moan poured from Tarkin’s lips. The sound of it, the sheer pleasure that oozed from that sound nearly sent Krennic over the edge. He choked a sob as Tarkin’s strokes grew urgent as did the movements of his cock pumping inside the director. 

Sharp quick moans escaped the moff’s lips as his hips snapped in quick succession into Krennic. “Ah, good boy….yes…” Warmth spilled inside Krennic, then and he watched mesmerized as the austere, strong visage of the most powerful man in the galaxy melted into a look of pure ecstasy. His own body quaked with a rising orgasm and he looked desperately to his moff.

“P...please…” was all he could manage, his body trembling.

“Oh pup...so beautiful when you beg...yes...come for me…”

Warm come painted his belly before Tarkin could finish his sentence. He rolled his head back and was caught by a cradle of tentacles that soothed and caressed his neck and face as Tarkin milked the remainder of his release from him. 

“You did so well,” Tarkin breathed, making a faint clicking sound that the tentacles responded immediately to. They lifted Krennic up and gently settled him on the cool tile floor. 

Krennic knelt there, a drooling, leaking, sweating heap. Dimly he felt the hand of Tarkin tilt his chin up and his lips eagerly wrapped around the fingers of the moff’s other hand, cleaning himself off of rough knuckles and palm befitting a military man than a politician. 

“I should not condone this behavior,” Tarkin mused, brushing Krennic’s hair away from his forehead. “You realize you are mine now. That I now own you.”

Krennic nestled his face against the moff’s hand, heart pounding at the prospect of belonging to him. “Yes, sir.” It made sense, it felt right. “I am yours.”

Tarkin hummed in approval. “You are...you are my pup to do as I wish when I wish.”

Krennic kissed Tarkin’s palm and looked up with hopeful eyes. “Will you...wish to do this again soon?”

At this, Tarkin crouched down, taking Krennic’s face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on those wet, slick, quivering lips. “Be good, pup.” And with that he stood up and left the room. 


End file.
